


Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [25]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Deleted Scenes, Dreamcatchers - Freeform, Dreams, Dreamsharing, Episode: s02e06 Tallahassee, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Nothing has been normal since Emma snatched that dreamcatcher from the motel. She keeps dreaming of a pirate with a hook with blue eyes the color of the forget-me-not and of a profound melancholy . . . or are they Emma’s dreams at all?





	Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flslp87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flslp87/gifts).



> *For flslp87 on her birthday!  
> *Based on the Eurythmics song which has also been covered by many other artists.  
> * I didn't bother checking the exact dialogue from Tallahassee, sorry! I figure I'm close enough.

**_Sweet dreams are made of this_**    
**_Who am I to disagree?_**    
**_I travel the world_**    
**_And the seven seas,_**    
**_Everybody's looking for something._**

“Aw look, the granola family left a dreamcatcher!” 

Emma turned to Neal with the dreamcatcher dangling from her fingertips, smile

gracing her face. Neal, however, frowned in confusion. 

“You know,” Emma continued, drawing closer to her boyfriend’s side, “it catches the bad dreams so you only have good dreams.”

“Right,” he chuckled, and Emma shook her head as she hung the dreamcatcher back on the lampshade. Neal was always funny about things like that: fables, legends, fairy tales. It never failed ; he always  change d  the subject when they came up. She got it, of course. Who wants to believe in that sort of thing when all life has handed you is a shit show?

“You know what we should do?” Changing the subject, as usual, yet Emma didn’t protest when he pulled her into his arms. 

“What?” Emma wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Maybe we should stop this whole Bonnie and Clyde routine. Settle down.”

Emma laughed, shaking her head as she stepped out of his embrace. “Where? Neverland?” He might as well believe in fairy tales, after all, to suggest something like that. 

“I’m serious. We can get jobs, maybe even a house.” 

He  looked  a round a nd yanked the cheesy framed advertisement off the wall, the one that marked where other motels for this cheap chain could be found. He tossed it onto the bed and gestured to it with a flourish. 

“Go ahead. Pick. Anywhere you want.”

Emma eyed him with hesitant enthusiasm, trying and failing to keep the smile off her face. She was so in love, so giddy with happiness living life with someone by her side for the first time, that his words actually sounded possible. She closed her eyes and put a finger on the map. When she opened them . . . 

“Tallahassee,” she breathed, “does that mean there’s a beach?”

Neal grinned broadly, pulling her into his arms again. “It’s Florida. There’s  gotta  be a beach somewhere nearby.”

Emma kissed him. “Tallahassee.”

When they left, she grabbed the dreamcatcher and hid it inside her jacket. They needed it a lot more than the granola family did. No nightmares were going to snatch this dream away  from her . 

***********************************************************

_ Emma blinked, then rubbed her eyes. Why couldn’t she see clearly? She shook her head, but the hazy air, like cobwebs floating before her vision, remained.  _

_ “Milah! Milah!” a voice cried.  _

_ Emma turned towards the sound. There, in the middle of the hazy gray of the place was a man – a pirate? He certainly looked like one, dressed all in black leather from head to toe. He looked panicked, turning around in circles and yelling that same name –  _ _ Milah _ _   - over and over. _

_ Emma drew closer, a question on her lips, but her voice wouldn’t work. The man began to run towards a shadowy figure in the distance, and Emma found herself drawn after him. The man’s legs moved as if he were treading water in molasses, and likewise Emma couldn’t get her legs to work properly either.  _

_ “I can’t get to you!” he screamed, moving even closer, and the figure laughed, running farther away. _

_ The man was crying now, begging the figure not to go, falling to his knees. The surroundings turned into jungle instead, though still just as hazy and dark. Emma felt an oppressive heat, and her chest tightened. The man stumbled to his feet, and he looked unseeing straight at Emma. She was struck by his eyes: not only how blue they were, but by the deep sadness glistening in them. He lifted both hands to his face as sobs wracked his body. Suddenly, his left hand was gone and blood streamed from the stump that remained. Emma stumbled back, the scene grotesque as the man screamed in agony.  _

_ Figures flooded in from all sides, crowding in around the man. One looked familiar, like a figure Emma had seen somewhere before.  _

_ “What’s the matter, Captain?” the figure said. It came into focus, and Emma realized it was just a boy. “I so wanted us to play. Does your hand hurt?” _

_ The man stood, and at the end of his left hand was a hook - _

Emma jerked awake, breathing hard. She lifted  a shaking  hand to her damp brow. Neal sat up next to her, groaning, and as she replayed the dream in her head, she started to laugh, almost hysterically. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Neal grumbled.

“Know how I joked about us settling down in Neverland?” she laughed. “Well, I just dreamed about Captain Hook and Peter Pan.”

“What?” 

Emma shook her head incredulously at the angry tone of Neal’s voice and the slack-jawed expression on his face. 

“Yeah, I dreamed about a pirate with a hook and a kid who looked just like Peter Pan in the movies.” Emma drew her knees up, uncomfortable in the cramped backseat of the Bug. They hadn’t been able to find anywhere else to crash for the night. 

“That’s weird,” Neal commented in a strained voice. 

“You’re the one being weird,” Emma laughed. “It was just a dream.”

Neal shook his head and gave her a forced smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Emma reached up and absentmindedly fiddled with the dreamcatcher she had hung in the back window. “Captain Hook was different though,” she murmured, “he was . . . handsome. With really blue eyes that had a . . . profound melancholy.”

“What did you say?” Neal bit out. 

Emma jerked away from the  dreamcatcher,  brow furrowed at her boyfriend’s angry tone. “ _ His eyes were the blue of the forget-me-not with a profound melancholy _ . Like in the book  _ Peter Pan _ ?”

“Like you read much,” Neal snorted.

“I read it a lot has a kid,” she shot back, “it was one of my favorites.”

Neal shrugged. “Whatever, Ems.”

“What the hell is your problem!”

“You wake up and go on and on about some hot guy in your dream. How am I supposed to feel? 

Emma rolled her eyes “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am,” he snapped, yanking open the door and getting out.

“Neal,” she called after him, “don’t be an idiot! It was a dream! God, I’m sorry, okay?”

“Whatever. I need air.” He reached in to grab his coat, and pointed angrily at the dreamcatcher. “And get rid of that stupid thing!”

****************************************************************

_ When Emma opened her eyes, the ground swayed beneath her. Above her was a dark sky twinkling with stars and a white sail flapping in the wind. She scrambled to her feet and saw that she was on a ship, an old sailing ship, like in a pirate movie. She turned when the floorboards squeaked, and she saw the same man as before, the pirate with the hook, coming up from below deck.  _

_ “Hello?” he called, looking around with a worried expression. “Where is everyone?” _

_ Emma held her breath, wondering if this time he would see her, but again he looked right through  _ _ her. _ _  He called out several names as he strode across the deck – the names of his crew perhaps?  _

_ “You’re alone, little brother,” a voice called out, “you’d better get to the wheel.” _

_ “Yes, Liam, you’re right,” the dark-haired pirate murmured in response, “you always are.” _

_ He moved in an almost dreamlike state to the  _ _ upperdeck _ _  and took his place behind the wheel. Emma followed him, the ship swaying more beneath her feet. She stumbled just as she reached the wheel, almost falling against it. The pirate struggled with the wheel as thunder rumbled and lightning flashed overhead. An eerie song floated through the air as the ship crashed into the rocks. _

_ “Bloody mermaids,” the pirate grumbled. _

_ Emma was sent sprawling across the deck. Every time she struggled to her  _ _ feet, _ _  she was knocked over once again. This dream felt so much more real than the last one. The ship pitched and rolled as rain poured from the heavens. Emma screamed when she looked up to see a giant wave poised over the ship. The pirate turned his gaze upon her, and their eyes met. Did he see her?  _

_ “Lass!” he shouted, reaching a hand out for her, but before Emma could crawl towards him and take it, the wave crashed into the ship - _

Emma gasped upon waking this time, almost as if she had just been clutched from a watery grave. Her sheets and her hair  were  drenched with swe a t, and her heart  hammered  in her chest. 

“Emma?” Neal asked her, worry in his voice. “You’re trembling and sweating. Are you sick?”

Emma shook her head, “No, I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

And it felt so real . . . 

_ It was pitch black, but when Emma took a step, she realized there was water all over the floor. It sloshed over her bare feet, yet it was too shallow to reach her ankles. As her eyes adjusted to her surroundings, she gasped. The water was viscous and black, clinging to her skin.  _

_ “Hello?” she called, her voice echoing in the emptiness.  _

_ She heard someone crying and tried to move towards the sound, though it was hard to get a sense of direction in this place. The crying grew louder, and she knew it was a child. Finally, there, just ahead, a figure curled in on itself. Light from an unknown source surrounded whoever it was. The closer she got, the  _ _ more sure _ _  Emma was. It was a child. A little boy. _

_ “Are you okay?” she asked, crouching down to better see the little boy’s face. His eyes were bright blue and freckles dotted his cheeks.  _

_ “He’s gone away,” he sniffled. “They’ve all gone away.” _

_ “Who?” _

_ “Everyone.”  _

_ The way the child said that word – everyone – caused terror to fill Emma’s heart. Suddenly, in the boy’s face, she could imagine her own.  _

_ “What are you doing here?” _

_ Emma spun around at the sound of the adult voice behind her. _ _  She stumbled backwards to see the pirate from her other two dreams standing before her.  _

_ “I . . .  _ _ I . _ _  . .  _ _ “  _

_ “You shouldn’t be here,” he spat. _

_ “Who are you?” Emma asked.  _

_ The man narrowed his eyes. “Why do I keep dreaming about you?” _

_ “Why do  _ **_ I  _ ** _ keep dreaming about  _ **_ you _ ** ?”

_ “You have to get her out of her!” the little boy interrupted their senseless argument. “You know what happens next.” _

_ The boy stood, revealing his scrawny frame clad in a long nightshirt from a long-ago era. What was it about little kids in creepy situations that made things ten times more terrifying? _

_ “What’s he talking about?” Emma asked the pirate. _

_ The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand. Emma snatched it away.  _

_ “I’m not going anywhere with you!” _

_ “Fine,” he snapped, “let it take you then.” _

_ “Let what take me?” _

_ “The darkness,” the little boy said in a flat voice, “it always gets us.” _

_ “Quit talking like we’re two people,” the pirate snapped.  _

_ Emma looked long at the little boy’s face, then the pirates: the same dark hair, the same blue eyes, the same tiny scar on one cheek.  _

_ “He’s you and  _ _ you’re _ _  him!” _

_ “Bloody brilliant of you, lass,” the pirate snapped. _

_ “I think she’s smart,” the little boy said, “and pretty.” _

_ “How would you know?” The pirate ran his hand through his dark hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. “Great, now I’m talking to myself. This isn’t usually how this nightmare goes.” _

_ Emma narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had this dream before?” She shook her own head, grasping her temple in both hands. “What am I saying, I’m dreaming this!” She was getting a headache. Could you even get a headache in your sleep? _

_ The little boy took her hand. “I’ll get her out if you won’t.” _

_ The room shook, and the pirate swore under his breath. “Bloody hell.”  _

_ Emma cried out as the strange, thick black water began to bubble and lap at her ankles. “What the -” _

_ “Give me your hand, love.” He rolled his eyes when she once again hesitated, then added, “The name’s Killian Jones, okay? Captain Jones.” _

_ “Captain Hook?” Emma asked incredulously, glancing down at his hook. Oh shit, she probably shouldn’t have pissed him off. _

_ “Ah, so you’ve heard of me!” he exclaimed with a cocky grin. _

_ “You could say that . . .  _ _ “  _

_ This _ _  was by far the weirdest dream she’d ever had.  _

_ The room shook again, and Emma yelped as she felt herself sink. Without hesitation, she took Killian’s hand. Or his adult hand anyway, her other still clasped in the little boy’s. Who was also Kilian,  _ _ apparently. _ _  God this was bizarre.  _

_ The three of them began running as best they could through the sticky substance at their feet. Since this . . . darkness always got them, according to the little boy, how where they supposed to get away? _

_ “You have light in you,” the little boy said as if he’d read her mind, “so you can get out.” _

_ As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Emma saw the outline of a door ahead. Light spilled out of the cracks around it, getting stronger and brighter the closer they got. Yet the closer they got to the door, the more the black tar at their feet battled to pull them down. It seemed to have tentacles now, reaching up to grasp at their legs, their arms. The little boy screamed and almost got pulled under, so Emma stopped and scooped him up in her arms. The door was only about three feet away and was swinging open, they could make it . . .  _

_ Emma glanced back and screamed to see a large, gaping mouth form out of the darkness. It was like a large, sticky crocodile jaw, and it was bearing down on them. The adult Killian shoved her and the boy towards the door, and the tar like jaws closed over his waist.  _

_ Emma’s hip hit firm  _ _ ground, _ _  one arm still wrapped around the little boy. Her hand still held fast to Killian’s, but he was being pulled under by the darkness.  _

_ “No!” Emma screamed as she tried to hold on. Something in Killian’s bright blue eyes compelled her to fight to save him.  _

_ “I’ll never forget you, lass,” he said before his hand slipped out of hers and he was pulled into the inky black.  _

_ “Killian!” _

“Killian!” Emma screamed, her arms flailing, searching. “Killian!”

“Emma!” a hand was on her shoulder. 

“Killian?” she asked, her eyes flying open, but hovering over her was Neal. And he looked angry.

“Where did you hear that name?” he demanded. 

Emma was gasping for air, trying to process the dream she had just had. It was the strangest of all she’d had since she got the dreamcatcher, but it has also seemed the most real. The dreamcatcher! Emma sat up quickly, her head almost hitting the top of the broken-down conversion  van  they had found in the scrap yard to make into a temporary home. She grabbed the dreamcatcher from the window where she’d hung it before going to bed. 

‘The pirate’s name is Killian,” she whispered, staring in amazement at the dreamcatcher. 

Before she even knew what was happening, Neal had snatched the dreamcatcher out of her hands. With a shout of rage, he snapped the frame in half. Emma shouted for him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. He kept attacking the dreamcatcher with his bare hands, wood snapping and thread breaking. Then he tore the feathers to shreds and crushed the beads beneath his heels. For reasons she couldn’t quite put into words, Emma sobbed as he completely destroyed. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he gasped, his emotions spent, “nothing’s been right since you got that damn thing, and I . . . “

He trailed off, then opened the van door and stomped out. Emma lay back down, curling in on herself. She couldn’t get that last look in Killian’s eyes out of her mind. She didn’t understand any of it: why the dreamcatcher had coincided with the bizarre dreams, why the man seemed so real, or why Neal had gotten so angry. All she knew was that without the dreamcatcher, she felt bereft, like a part of her had been ripped away. 

******************************************************************

Emma didn’t dream of him again. Neal kept asking her. He knew she was telling him the truth. For one, Emma was a surprisingly horrible liar. Second, she hadn’t once awoken crying out or sweating since he broke the dreamcatcher. 

Yet his Emma simply hadn’t been the same since. Worry seemed to always wrinkle her brow, and she was often distant, like she was gazing off into a dreamworld that he couldn’t see. He cursed that damn dreamcatcher! His old warning bells had gone off when he’d seen it: the same ones that had plagued him when Wendy Darling had mentioned the shadow at her window. He should have gotten rid of it earlier; he knew what magic really was. But fear of having to tell Emma the truth about his past had made him hesitate. How could he have expressed the danger of a magical object without sounding like a lunatic? And now magic had cost him yet another girl that he loved, just like Wendy. 

Just like his mother before her. 

Killian? A handsome pirate with a hook named Killian? Neal’s hand clasping Emma’s tightened. Could it really be the same guy? He was still working for Pan when Neal left Neverland, so it was entirely possible he supposed. But through Emma’s dreams? And why Emma? It wasn’t even like Hook had magic himself. What game was he playing? Was this still about killing Neal’s father?

“Ow!” Emma exclaimed, yanking her hand away and rubbing it. “Afraid I’ll run away?” 

Her words startled him, hitting  way  too close to home, but the grin on her face made him relax. Emma adored  him,  she would never take off like his mother did. And yes, he knew all along Hook was right. His mother had left him. Left his father, yes, but it was the same thing. She chose adventure and romance over her own son, and it left a gaping hole in his heart that nothing could ever fill. 

“Sorry,” he sighed, pulling Emma close. He didn’t know what to say, so he just held her. 

“Hey,” she said, pulling back to look into his face, “this isn’t still about those weird dreams, is it? Because they weren’t, like, sex dreams or anything.” She bit her lip and blushed in that cute way she had. 

“Cause you only have those about me, right?”

She giggled, pressing her face against the crook of his neck. She was so innocent; it was one of the things he adored about her. He held her tighter. 

“And now you’re choking me,” she joked, exaggerating a breathless voice.

He laughed at the sparkle that was back in her eyes, but then he saw something over her shoulder, and his chuckle drifted off.  Emma shook him gently. 

“What’s up?”

Neal shook his head to clear it. “Um, nothing, just . . .  “ he  reached into his pocket and pulled out the little cash they had left. They’d need to lift some more cash soon, maybe hit the park where mothers wouldn’t be watching their purses. He pressed the money into Emma’s hand. “Go over to that diner and get us some burgers.”

“Really?” Emma squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “And onion rings?’

“Mhm, get us a booth. I’ll be right there. I just have to take care of one quick thing.”

He flashed her a smile so she wouldn’t worry, and she kissed him briefly before heading across the street. Once she was safely inside the diner, Neal turned and went inside the store that had distracted him a moment ago. Stepping inside made his chest tighten with anxiety: it was filled floor to ceiling with magic. The painted window proclaimed: Moana’s Curio Shop. A woman with tanned skin and long black hair stepped out of the back store room. She wore a flowery, one-shouldered, sundress, and another large flower was clipped in her hair. She didn’t look like the sort of person who possessed magic or ran a shop like this, but Neal knew from experience that looks can be deceiving. Pan and his Lost Boys were the greatest example of that. 

“May I help you?” she young woman asked, tilting her head as she appraised him. Whatever she saw, it made a slow smile spread across her face. She marched closer, propping her hands on her hips in a  scrutinizing  fashion. “Never mind pretense, you are just like me, aren’t you?”

Neal shuffled nervously. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Mhm,” she replied with a knowing grin, “stick to that story if you want.”

“I am looking for a particular item.”

“Oh really?” she asked casually as she re-organized a shelf of  incense .

“My girlfriend had a dreamcatcher . . . “ he trailed off, grasping a handful of hair in frustration. How did he even begin to explain?

“And you don’t like where it’s taking her?” 

“Well, I solved that problem. I broke the dreamcatcher.”

The woman shook her head and clucked her tongue. “It may have closed the opening to the dream world, but she’s still connected to the person who’s dreams she infiltrated.”

Neal’s eyes widened. “Um, what?”

She arched a brow at him.  ”Don’t  play dumb. You already expected as much.”

She didn’t even wait for an answer. She went to the front of the store where a display of dreamcatchers hung from the ceiling. As she placed it into his eager hands, Neal felt relief wash over him. He’d have Emma back. 

************************************************************

Emma arched a brow and laughed at Neal’s eager expression, the dreamcatcher he had bought her dangling from his fingers. 

“Sorry?” he asked hesitantly. 

Emma threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. He’d been so weird about the dreamcatcher and even weirder about her dreams, but this showed just how badly he felt about all of it. It was kind of cute, actually, how jealous he got of a dream guy who wasn’t even real. He watched her intently as she grasped the new dreamcatcher in her hands. The room spun and the colors of the dreamcatcher seemed to meld together. 

Emma stumbled, then shook her head. She smiled at Neal and kissed his cheek. 

“Aw, you remembered how I liked the granola family’s dreamcatcher! Thank you!”

“You um,” he licked his lips nervously, “never had one before, right?”

“No,” Emma said, shaking her head and smiling as she watched it spin, “I never have.”


End file.
